


Afterwards

by aperture_living



Category: BioShock, BioShock Infinite
Genre: Drama, Gen, Psychological Drama, Spoilers, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 15:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/787634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aperture_living/pseuds/aperture_living
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night was young, the battle fresh, and I could move mountains.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afterwards

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers! Spoilers for everything!

The night was young, the battle fresh, and I could move mountains.

We sat around in tents after the fight, not warm enough to keep the chill out, not cold enough to kill us. Battle excitement was a glorious thing, still running through our bones, keeping us wide-eyed through our weariness, keeping us stern in our resolve. Though the battle was over, and though we were utterly victorious, we weren’t foolish enough to fall asleep, not yet. With how I felt, maybe not damn-well ever.

The wounded and dying were still screaming, calling attention to us in the darkness. I hoped they were delirious and couldn’t help themselves; their selfishness was bringing attention to our camp and our state, and I’d hate to think any men of _mine_ were that weak. If it was up to me, I’d give them an honorable, quick death and be done with it, their souls given to Heaven while we still had a chance. They had done their duty protecting our great country, they had performed their service, and there was no greater gift and honor than dying in the heat of battle against a worthy opponent.

Not that those things had been a real worthy opponent, but they were close enough. Enough to get us by until the next one.

Across from me, Corporal Dewitt cleared his throat, sighed, and shifted uncomfortably. Other than a few cuts and bruises, he seemed fine, whole and intact, if not a little contemplative. It was almost amusing because the rest of the camp seemed worried about him, scared of him, hesitant. Maybe it was because he still had the blood like those savages warpaint down his face. Maybe because he still had dark hair under his nails. Maybe because he hadn’t said more than two sentences since it all went down.

Maybe it was because they couldn’t make fun of the rumors of his heritage anymore. Of the supposed teepees in his line. He had proved himself, above and beyond, and they accepted him, revered him, if not feared him.

“Corpo—”

“I’m fine, sir.”

“I didn’t ask if you were.” He was cold and didn’t look at me, didn’t raise his eyes from his filthy hands. I didn’t care. “You should go wash up. You don’t know what diseases those things carried.”

The man’s eyes flashed at me, dark and momentary and unconsciously, a second in time like a skip in a man’s heartbeat. I didn’t, wouldn’t ever, look away from a fellow soldier; they deserved better than that. Besides, I had nothing to apologize for, and he was just confused, battle-addled. Maybe it was his first time, even if the man didn’t fight like it.

_You’re a weapon, boy. Fine and trained. You just need a little fine tuning, a thorough cleaning and some oil, and then you won’t misfire. They’ll build statues for folks like you and I. They’ll tell your tales of victory over those vermin and how you took their scalps like they would’ve taken ours._

As I walked out of that tent, I caught the hesitant looks of the men around us, that uneasy mix of admiration, prestige, and fear, like a man looking at the largest of grizzlies. But they were simply looking at a Corporal, a soldier, a man who had taken trophies, who was proud of his work and his service. There would be names whispered at midnight, _The White Injun_ , muttered behind hands chapped with cold, but he was what we needed, he was a star, and they knew it. He had the resolve and the courage and the skill to fight them with what they would do for us.

This man was a killer, but what soldier wasn’t? It’s the meaning why that changes “duty and honor” from “murder”. He’d come to understand that, with time.

And if he didn’t, well, he would be worthy to stand against when the point came.

I almost looked forward to it.


End file.
